There's No Me Without You
by LaughLoveLiveXx
Summary: Ali/Emily one shot set during 1x21 from Ali's POV.   The girls have reached a crucial moment in their hunt for A's identity, and all Alison can do is watch them and pray that they use what she gave them while she was still alive


Hey guys, this is just a short oneshot of Ali and Emily, i wrote this because i've always found them an interesting pairing and a while back another author requested a story around these two, so this is for PrincyJessie :)

* * *

><p>Alison POV<p>

You wonder how she knew, but then again, she always did. Ever since you met she'd known how to read you, like an open book. You wanted it to bother you. You wanted it to infuriate you- make you feel exposed and angry; you wanted to close your eyes and block it all out. You wanted to put it to the back of your mind but you knew that, even there, she'd find it. She knew you better than you knew yourself; every thought, every feeling, every scream- she heard it before you'd even opened your mouth. Every lie and ersatz façade…she saw right through it, her sparkling eyes burning straight into your soul. Your missing piece.

You'd been trying to find it for years, jamming together pieces that didn't quite fit, cutting corners. Pretending that they were a perfect match and ignoring the fact that the picture didn't quite look right. All because you hated to admit how you felt. But more than that, you hated to admit that she'd been right all along- that'd never been something that you were good at, admitting you were wrong.

You hurt her, you know. With all your games and your lies. With your pretence and icy exterior, you hurt her. Letting her in one moment and freezing her out the next, you'd hurt her and you'd played with her. You wish that you were sorry. You tell yourself that you did it to make her stronger- to harden her against the heartbreaks that she would surely face in this dystopia, this harsh reality…but you know it's a lie. You know the real reason; you couldn't stand the imperfection. Or the dependency and the incriminating vulnerability that would alter your charade. If people didn't love you, _envy_ you, then you had nothing. If you weren't flawless, you had nothing. You were nothing, regardless of how she made you feel.

You knew that, in the end, that thirst for attention would be your downfall, really- it had just never bothered you. Dying young itself, had never bothered you- because 'that's immortality, my darlings', you smile as you repeat the words of your younger thoughts and wonder if, somewhere inside yourself, you saw it coming. You had to really, and you were sure that with Spencer's help, she could guess that you knew, and bring herself one step closer to finding the truth. She'd remember, you were sure, after all, she remembered everything of you- every word you uttered and every breath you took. And it was only when it was too late that you realized that. Only when you were out of time that you truly saw how much she meant to you, and how much your games had hurt her. How much hiding your feelings had hurt her.

She was always on your mind though, not that it was any consolation. In the moment that you took your last breath, it was her that you needed, wanted. It was her that you cried for, her that you prayed for. When you had lost all hope and the world around you had faded to black, when your lungs gave out and your heart beat for the last time…you still held faith in her. In your last moments, you worried for her loss, and wondered how she would cope. You wished that you could hold her one last time, dry her tears and tell her how you truly felt…tell her that you loved her and that you just wanted her to be happy. Tell her that it was okay to move on. But you couldn't. You wished that the old you, the more naïve version, had had the sense to tell her that. That you loved her with all your heart and you always would, no matter what. But you couldn't turn back the hands of time. All you could do know was wish with all your strength, that she knew she had your heart, that she somehow knew just how much she really meant to you. That she'd figure it all out in time.

You hated to put her life in danger, honestly you did, but you knew that it had to be here. Spencer would have figured it out too quickly, with her primordially inquisitive nature, whereas Hanna never would. Aria? There was never enough of a connection between the two of you and she wouldn't have cared anyway. Besides, you'd wanted _her_ to have it. She would know that it was less about having all the right answers, and more about knowing the right questions to ask. But you knew she'd keep it safe until the time was right, and then she'd figure it out. She'd keep it safe, like she always had with you.

Spencer used to call her your 'killer'- You flinch inwardly at the irony of that-your permanent bodyguard, or 'personal pit bull' as Spencer put it. It was only in moments like this that you allowed yourself to reminisce; that was because reminiscing brought back emotions that you had long since forgotten that you were capable of feeling, and with these emotions, came vulnerability. The one feeling that you loathed more than any other. That was the one thing you didn't miss about life, the incessant emotion, the constant need to _feel_.

I knew that she'd keep it safe, and then, when the time came, she'd tell the others, then and only then, would they find the right question in the form of its answer. The question that they should have been asking all along.

Not who killed you? Or how they did it? But the most crucial question of all…why? And with that answer, they may just get to know you even better in death than they did in life.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought and be sure to check out my Spemily fic 'Even Angels Fall'<p>

Reviews are much appreciated


End file.
